Fire Exits
by ncfan
Summary: Rory just saw fire exits. Spoilers for 'The God Complex'.


Gah, this isn't nearly as articulate as I hoped it would be. It just really, really bothers me that Rory, if the events of _The God Complex _are to be believed, apparently has no faith in _anything. _

I own nothing.

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><p>He hadn't really thought very hard over the significance of it at the time. After all, they were being chased by an alien Minotaur that feeds by sucking a person dry of all their spirit; that, Rory can't help but think, was more important. That, he can't help but think, was more than enough excuse not to think too hard on why he was different from the others.<p>

Well, he's thinking now.

Amy is staring out the window of their new apartment just like she has for nearly an hour—she's been abandoned again, just like he has. Rory has stopped his worry over Amy's well-being and his indignation that the Doctor has left them _again _long enough to think over the events of the Hotel.

Namely, of a particular absence.

At first, the Doctor thought that the Minotaur was feeding off of the prisoners' fear. Then, he realized that it was actually their faith—taking the faith of a prisoner in a particular thing and converting it to faith in itself. Everyone had a room where they would be forced to come to face with their worst fear. When they relied on the thing they had faith in to deliver them, that was when the Minotaur struck.

Everyone had a room, even the Doctor. Everyone. Everyone except Rory.

Rory just saw fire exits.

It's not that Rory has nothing he's afraid of. There are many things that scare him; a lot of the things that frighten him center around losing Amy, but mind control and the thought of what the Doctor might do if he ever let go, if he was ever in a position where there was no one to bring him back to reality, run a close second. Rory is not a coward by any stretch of the imagination, but he is hardly without fear.

There was no room for him. If Rory is not without fear, then that means that he is without faith, in anything or anyone at all.

And that thought bothers him.

Rory was not raised particularly religiously. His parents took him to Church every Sunday but they did not enforce the teachings within the home. He does believe that there is a God but he doesn't really think that much about Him. After everything he's been through on his travels with the Doctor, Rory _knows _God isn't going to get him out of trouble.

As a Roman, Rory was raised to believe in the household gods and the greater deities, but again, not raised to be particularly devout. As a Roman, Rory was a soldier first and foremost, and one who had seen far too much, done far too much to have any particular faith in the gods.

The Doctor… Rory used to have faith in the Doctor. A self-described madman with a box, not a god, not a demon, not a goblin, not a trickster, just a _man, _and a fallible man at that, but still, Rory used to have faith in him. That faith however, took too many blows to live; Demon's Run started the process and Apalapucia just put the final nail in the coffin. The Doctor makes too many mistakes, he plays fast and loose with the lives of others a little too cavalierly for Rory's tastes. He still trusts the Doctor, if not as much as he used to, but Rory does not have any faith in him anymore.

All of this does bother him, but the last is what bothers him the most. Amy. Rory frowns as he finishes washing up at the sink—the apartment has many things but a dishwasher does not number among them. Of all the things he thought he had faith in, the list is small, but up until this point he has been sure Amy was among them.

_If I believe in anything, I believe in her. _No one who knows Rory has to ask themselves or anyone else if he loves anyone as much as he does Amy. No one has to ask if he believes in her. But faith?

Rory doesn't know. The fact that he had no room tends to tell him something he doesn't really like, that he doesn't have faith, not even in Amy. The fear of being manipulated is too strong. Rory has been put through so much, in both this universe and the last one, that he doesn't really rely on anyone anymore. Not even, it seems, Amy.

Everyone else had a room, but Rory just saw fire exits. Rory snorts as he puts the last plate on the drying rack. Apparently, the monster of the week wanted him to _leave_; that's new. Usually the monster of the week wants to torture him in particularly sadistic ways or just kill him; often times, it _does _kill him. This level of courtesy on the part of a monster of the week is completely unprecedented.

_Amy…_

Clear gray eyes shift from the task of washing dishes to Amy. She's still sitting on the window seat, staring out the window. _I have faith in her, don't I? I believe in Amy, don't I? _She never notices the way he's burning holes into her back; Amy just sits at the window, elbows propped on the sill. _Don't I? _Rory questions himself, with far less certainty.

He grimaces, and leaves the washing to go sit by Amy, rubbing her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. _Fire exits…_

Her hair is red as fire, and Rory jumps a little, admittedly startled, when he feels a hand, smaller, with long fingernails, close over his own. Then, he smiles.

Rory had no faith in anyone, not even Amy. Maybe it's time to start.


End file.
